


Loneliness is Temporary

by doctorenterprise



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/F, Foster Care, Loneliness, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Parents & Children, Sexual Violence, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorenterprise/pseuds/doctorenterprise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike's whole life, he’d had only one or two family members at a time. Sometimes he didn’t have any. </p><p>This is the story of how Mike achieved love and self-worth and family with the help of a man who would become the happiest ending to any story he'd ever experienced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loneliness is Temporary

Mike's whole life, he’d had only one or two family members at a time. Sometimes he didn’t have any. When he was little, his mom and dad had smothered him with love and affection. His dad travelled around a lot because he was a pharmaceutical representative. His mom had been a steady presence, though, because she never went back to work after he was born. It was heaven to have her with him so much – the kind of heaven that even a little kid recognizes. Mike's mom loved with everything she had and he got round the clock dosages.

He remembered getting sick and staying in her bed, propped up on pillows and swaddled in old, well-loved blankets that were busted out solely for sick times. She would read to him for hours – never any kids books, because he’d finished all the good ones by the time he was four. She would recite Moby Dick, Middlemarch, and Dracula to him from memory. She had the same mind that Mike possessed and their quiet, cozy days in a darkened bedroom reciting classic novels to each other when they were sick still held a special part of Mike's heart. Never before or since had he connected with someone on an intellectual level like he and his mom had done.

When she and his dad were killed, he’d wept for the loss of their love, but also for the loss of the understanding that only his mom could provide.

Then he’d learned what I was like to be alone physically as well as intellectually. Three months in four different foster homes had jaded eleven year old Mike into thinking no one would ever love him again. The first home had been okay, but the elderly woman running it had fallen and broken her hip two weeks into Mike's stay, so all the kids had been moved.

The second had been Hell on earth. It was run by a husband and wife, both of whom took it as their right to scream and smack and lock kids in bedrooms without food. Mike had lasted there only ten days before he caught the husband sneaking out of the room of Mike's only ally – twelve year old Rosie, whose dad was long gone and whose mom had died when she was born. He’d lost it then because Rosie was so sweet and kind to him and she even told him he was special. He’d taken a baseball bat to Mr. Hudson the minute he’d seen her tears. They transferred him, and all the other kids.

At the third place, the husband and wife had been kind, but they’d had two kids – a boy and a girl – who had hated Mike with all the passion of children who felt left out. Their parents had accepted Mike into their family so easily that he almost felt at home. Until the day he’d come home from school and fifteen year old Alex and sixteen year old Jenna were waiting for him because their parents had gone away for the weekend. They’d spent two days holding him under in the bathtub, stripping him naked and smacking him with belts, and telling him no one loved him and he would never have a real family again. He stopped talking at all and he’d cried himself to sleep for a week before they did it again. It happened every time the parents were late getting home. They had high stress jobs and it happened several times a week. He was there for three days short of two months.

When the parents had found out what their son and daughter were doing to Mike – he hadn’t told them, but they’d seen the welt marks on his back – they had him transferred immediately for his own safety. It still felt like they were punishing him for it. The fourth home was the best. It was a single, low-income woman with a kind face and two other kids, Jake and Henry. She was kind to him and let him leave his lights on at night when he got scared. A week into his stay, Social Services had tracked down his grandmother and he went to live with her.

Living with his grandmother was like a slice of the love and family he’d had before his mom and dad died. She let him sleep in her bed when he had nightmares and she cooked him special soup when he got sick. She loved him wholly and well and he loved her back. It was never the same as having his mom and dad, but she was so amazing after his time in foster care that he smiled and started to talk again. He never told her what the foster homes had been like, but he figured she knew. When she woke him from nightmares, stroked his hair, told him he was safe and didn’t say anything about it in the morning, he decided she knew enough and he didn’t have to talk about it.

As soon as he’d turned fifteen, he’d gotten a job to help Grammy support him. He worked as a busboy at a retro coffee shop that tried too hard at the retro part, which was where he’d met Trevor and Jenny. They came in every Tuesday on Cupcake Day and Jenny bullied Trevor into buying her a red velvet one. They’d made fast, albeit awkward (on Mike's part), friends. When he got to college and had half the amount of class time as high school, he’d picked up another job. Any spare time he had was spent getting high with Trevor.

He’d struggled his way through high school and a year of university, unsure of what to do with the mind his mom had given him. Grammy was, of course, supportive of him every step of the way, but he didn’t believe in himself the way his mom and dad had done. Grammy had been horrified when Mike was kicked out of college for cheating, but Mike was unsurprised. It fell in line with everything he knew – losing his parents, losing mom’s intellect, losing Rosie to that family…losing his way and his integrity seemed like another rung on the ladder.

Mike had Trevor and Jenny and Grammy and that was enough for him for a long time. Trevor fucked him over on a bi-weekly basis and Jenny took over the role that Rosie had once played, for however short a time. She tugged his head to her lap and combed her fingers through his hair when they watched movies, she whispered her amazement about his brain when they drifted to sleep during power outages at Trevor’s place, she told him he was good and special and loved. He believed her, until Trevor sent him to his doom with a briefcase full of pot at a hotel without a working swimming pool.

He’d met Harvey. Pot scattered across the floor, a cheap suit, and adrenaline coursing through his veins…Harvey Specter had captivated him. Standing stoic in the face of what was clearly a federal crime in progress, smirking down at Mike as he scrambled to collect all the vacuum packets as quickly as possible. It was a low point in his life, but not the lowest.

Then, for the first time since he was eleven, Mike took full control of his brain and put it to use. The look on Harvey's face…it was like everything his mom had said to him so long ago. He _felt_ special and impressive and worthy.  It had been fifteen years since someone looked at Mike with admiration and he’d felt like he deserved it. When Harvey told him he started a week from Monday, his knees had turned to jelly.

The first month had been something akin to his second foster home. Harvey shouted, he raged, he called him a moron, and he threatened to fire Mike every two days. Mike hadn’t felt like he was special or impressive or worthy at that point. He’d felt like everything Alex and Jenna had told him was true. He was pathetic and unloved and subpar. Then Donna, Harvey's sweet, vaguely threatening assistant had apparently had a word with Harvey about kicking the puppy when he was down and everything shifted.

Harvey went three full weeks without threatening Mike's job. He smiled when Mike found the crucial missing piece in a few cases. They developed a cautious (on Mike's part) and mutual back-and-forth that left Mike giddy with excitement. He hadn’t had anything that might resemble a real friend since he was in elementary school. He became attached and protective of Harvey with record speed, to the point where the first associate to badmouth Harvey in front of Mike wound up with a bloody nose and Mike wound up with unpaid overtime. He hadn’t cared. The guy had deserved it. He never said anything, but the barely-suppressed smirk on Harvey's face let Mike know that he secretly approved.

Harvey became Mike's pole star. He was the most visible thing in the sky above Mike's tiny, modest world. Mike's interactions with Harvey were the only things that helped him move forward in this new life. Everything he said, Mike held onto like precious glass. He was Mike's best and only ally.

The next year of Mike's life consisted solely of Pearson Hardman. He didn’t make any friends, but that was no different from the rest of his life. As a child, he’d been socially exiled for his brain and his childish sweetness. As a teenager, he’d been too hazy with grief and weed to form a meaningful bond with anyone but Trevor and Jenny. Now, as an adult, he was too busy and exhausted to form relationships of any kind with people who weren’t directly linked to his job. The other associates treated him much like Alex and Jenna had, for much the same reasons. The fact that Harvey had picked Mike specifically enraged them and he bore the brunt of their jealousy.

He never spoke of it to Harvey, or anyone else. Their taunts and verbal abuse rolled off him for the most part, but things – as things were wont to do – escalated to encompass not only Mike, but Harvey as well. The day Mike had entered the office to see Kyle Durant sitting in his cubicle, Mike's skin had crawled. Kyle asked Mike how the case was going, asked him how the late nights in Harvey's office were. Mike's blood had begun to simmer at that point and continued to do so all day, until Kyle cornered him in the copy room. He’d pressed Mike up against the wall and said the most terrible things imaginable. Mike had trembled with anger and horror at the way Kyle spoke about Harvey.

Donna had found them there. She’d walked into the room in time to hear Kyle hissing about Harvey using Mike as a fuck doll and see Mike shake with revulsion and unshed tears. How could anyone think that of Harvey, he’d thought. How? Donna had ordered Kyle sharply out of the copy room. She’d guided Mike to a chair at a table and rubbed his back (though his stomach clenched at the contact) until he stopped trembling.

How dare they? he’d asked. How dare they bring Harvey into this? He could take their attacks on him, but on Harvey? How dare they suggest that Harvey would stoop so low as to fuck _him_ , of all people? Harvey was a man of integrity and class. He was a good man, under the shiny and hardened exterior. He was three times the man that Kyle Durant could ever hope to be, so how dare Kyle suggest Harvey would do something so degrading?

Donna had listened and fumed and kept her eyes off of Mike as he ranted. He’d never seen her avoid looking at anyone before, but he understood. He had caused this problem for Harvey and he would pay for it until he fixed it. She left him alone in the copy room to plot his defense of Harvey's nobility.

Harvey had shown up at Mike's apartment long after midnight, but Mike was still awake from the stress of having brought Harvey down with him. He’d invaded Mike's apartment without being invited, though the invitation had been seconds from offered. Harvey had sat Mike down and explained that he could fight his own battles because he’d done it many times before. He’d told Mike that associates had always talked smack about him and this wasn’t Mike's fault. He’d said that their gossip was without the slightest bit of foundation because Harvey would never, ever consider Mike as a fuck toy.

Mike had said _I know, of course I know, but they say it and it’s horrible_. He’d pressed his palms to his eyes and whispered _it’s disgusting, what they think of you, and it hurts me when they say it_. Harvey had left his seat opposite Mike's and sat down beside him. He’d rested a hand on Mike's shoulder until the shaking stopped again and then he’d wrapped an arm around Mike's body and told him he was okay. He told Mike that he would never consider Mike as a fuck toy because Mike was too good for that and he could never look at him without seeing brilliance and beauty and kindness. He told Mike that he was a person, not a toy, and a good, special, important one.

He had asked Mike to dinner.

He had picked Mike up at seven o’clock that Friday in jeans and a red Henley sweater with a soft smile Mike had never seen before. He had taken Mike to a small diner that had burgers in red and white checkered paper and milkshakes in tall glasses with striped straws. They smiled and talked and awkwardly reached for things they didn’t need as an excuse to ‘accidentally’ hold hands over the table. Mike told Harvey it was a perfect place and Harvey looked so marvellously happy that Mike had laughed at nothing at all.

Harvey had dropped Mike off at his apartment and walked him up to his door. He’d kissed Mike so nervously and with such sweet gentleness that Mike had melted into a ball of arms, lips, and affection. He said to Harvey _come inside_ and Harvey had said _you’re too special for that_. He’d kissed Mike again and told him it was the best night of his life and then disappeared down the stairs. Mike had leaned against his door and grinned himself silly for twenty minutes after Harvey left.

He’d seen Donna the next morning and she winked at him – he realized her discomfort in the copy room was not pity or disgust, but empathy and he loved her for it. She’d told him he was too sweet and kind for his own good and informed him that he should expect regular affection and lunches from her now. He’d smiled because the idea of expecting affection was so foreign and exciting and Harvey had just exited the elevators. He’d looked up and seen Mike and his face split in two with a grin and Mike gripped Donna's desk for support.

Mike had expected to keep silent and sneak and hide his feelings for Harvey at the office, but then Harvey had smiled and he kissed Mike right there in the hallway of Pearson Hardman. Mike kissed him back and it only lasted a second, but his day got thirty times better even so and it had already been going quite well.

The next months had shocked Mike out of his skin. Mike had known that he and Harvey would make a splash at the office and he’d known he would take heat from the other associate for it, but he had never once expected that people would support him and defend him and reassure him. He’d learned any things during the budding stage of their romance, but that many people liked him and wished him well was the most surprising. He’d learned that he wasn’t alone as much as he thought. He’d reached out to the people who had defended him – something he’d never attempted before – and learned that they thought he was brilliant and talented and extraordinary. He made friends.

Harvey had treated him well before, but now he saw a new Harvey. The new Harvey worshiped Mike and treated him like a prince. Harvey arrived in their relationship with enthusiasm and it never went away. Mike enjoyed it immensely. He fell in love with Harvey quickly and firmly and it never lessened for a second.

Six months after Harvey kissed Mike for the first time, he kissed him for the nine hundred and eleventh time. He’d shown up at Mike's apartment with a smile and a kiss and a keychain with a key at the end. He’d handed it to Mike and told him he loved him (for the first time and Mike's heart had swelled) and wanted him all the time, not just on dates or at work. Mike had moved in overnight and they had lain in _their_ bed for the first time and just stared at each other with big, silly grins. Harvey had kissed Mike again and they’d tangled into one space on the bed and Mike had felt Harvey's erection against his stomach.

Harvey had never hidden his desire from Mike (of course not, because he was Harvey Specter), but he’d never once pushed or asked or suggested. They’d never had sex, because Mike was shy and scared and still had scars from the belts at Alex and Jenna’s house. They had felt and rubbed and dipped hands into pants, but they’d never stripped naked or made love. Mike knew a lot of things and he’d known all along that it wasn’t just because of his reservations. He’d seen how Harvey took extra care to treat him with respect and kindness instead of lust and carelessness. It had always been obvious that Harvey never wanted the phrase _fuck toy_ to ever cross Mike's mind again. He’d waited six months to prove that he cared about Mike and he loved him as a person.

Mike had rolled his hips against Harvey's erection and watched eyelids flutter and a throat tighten and eyebrows furrow. He’d trembled with excitement and desire and a blanket of warm possessiveness and possession. He’d never felt more like Harvey was his and he was Harvey's than he did in their bed, pressed together and breathing in tandem. He had dipped his hand into Harvey's sleep pants and stroked and squeezed and fumbled eagerly. They’d shed clothing and exchanged shyly thrilled smiles and pressed kisses to everything in reach. Harvey had stroked Mike's scars and looked at him with pained eyes and kissed him when Mike shrank into the mattress insecurely.

Harvey had kissed down Mike's throat and across his chest. He’d stopped on Mike's nipples and sucked until Mike trembled and moaned and dragged blunt nails down his back. He’d dipped his tongue into Mike's bellybutton and grinned when Mike wriggled – tickling Mike had always been a hobby. He’d sucked Mike's cock into his mouth and Mike had keened happily as he’d looked down into Harvey's wide brown eyes, pupils blown with arousal. Harvey had worked fingers inside Mike with a gentleness born of intense love and caring and he’d tapped two of them against Mike's prostate until Mike had writhed himself free, gasping and moaning and begging. He’d lifted Mike's legs and pressed inside of him slowly and kissed him with tears in his eyes.

They’d stilled for a long time, connected and with interwoven limbs as their breaths mingled and they went cross-eyed from staring too close together. They’d moved together and Harvey had whispered constantly and Mike had listened with blissful pleasure. Harvey'd told him he was gorgeous and they felt good together and they should never stop this. There had been no rush of pleasure at the end because Mike could never have felt more than what he did the whole time. Harvey had kissed his entire face when it ended and spoken lowly in Mike's ear. He’d said _you’re perfect and beautiful and brilliant and good and I love you_.

Mike had said _I think you’re right_ and Harvey had smiled so wide and so happy that Mike didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

Mike had been happy – so happy, so deliriously happy – for a whole year after Harvey had asked him to move in. Harvey had treated him with even more adoration than before and in return, Mike had loved Harvey with his entire being. They had worked cases and repainted the apartment and bickered over the dishes and bathroom cleaning schedules. Mike had told Harvey he would love him forever, even if Harvey left him, and Harvey had told Mike that he never would. Mike, for the first time in his life, had believed that he could have someone forever.

Harvey had shown him so many new ways to have a family and love and worthiness that Mike sometimes got out of bed in the morning and giggled himself silly in the shower. Mike had learned that he had a perfect family contained in their apartment and he never wanted to leave.

Harvey had shown up at Mike's twenty-eighth birthday party with a smile and a small box. He had spoken softly in Mike's ear and told him he was happy and in love and thought Mike was perfect. He had told Mike he wanted him forever and would Mike please marry him? Mike had said yes,  yes of course, and can we do it now?

Harvey had smiled and told him that because he knew Mike better than anyone, he’d already hired an officiator and filed their marriage license. Harvey and Mike had gotten married on Mike's birthday at his party with everyone they loved there already. They’d both cried a little and grinned a lot and whispered _I love you_ a thousand times. Mike had hugged Donna for a full minute and told her she was smart and gorgeous and he knew she’d gone to Harvey when she found him in the copy room and thank you so much for telling him what Mike couldn’t.

She had kissed his cheek and told him he deserved everything he’d gotten since then and he had believed her with his whole heart.

Harvey and Mike had been married for two years and in love for three and a half when a woman knocked on their door. She was small and blond and sad in a way that made Harvey call for Mike. Mike had come into the entryway curiously and had dropped his mug of coffee when he’d seen her standing there. He had grabbed her and held her and sobbed with her because she was Rosie from his second foster home. He’d let her go and she smiled up at him with beautiful green eyes and told him she had a daughter.

Rosie had told him all about how she’d had her little girl three days ago and she loved her, but Rosie was sick and she wasn’t going to make it and Mike was the only person she knew who could love her daughter as much as she did. She’d asked Mike to take her, please, because she was just a baby and didn’t deserve to grow up in foster homes like Rosie had. Mike had cried and clung to Harvey and thought about the awful things that had happened to Rosie in foster homes. He’d known immediately that he couldn’t let Rosie’s baby have the same fate and then Harvey had told Rosie that of course they’d take her baby for her. Of course they would raise her and love her forever.

Mike had wept with relief and love.

Rosie’s baby hadn’t been named yet and Rosie told them they could choose because they would be her parents. Mike had chosen to call her Rosie and he’d explained that he couldn’t lose his Rosie forever and that she’d just have to live on inside her daughter. Rosie had cried and told Mike she loved him and told Harvey the same thing. She’d hugged them both. They had completed all the adoption papers in what Harvey told Mike was record time – Mike had not been surprised because Harvey got things done when he wanted them done – and baby Rosie was theirs. The day the papers had been processed, Rosie had passed away in a hospital, holding baby Rosie one last time with Mike and Harvey sitting beside her.

Mike never shed a tear over Rosie’s death because he knew she was right here with him, wrapped in a bundle of flannel blankets with a permanent kiss mark on her forehead. Mike had thought that his family was perfect with Harvey, but Rosie had completed them in a whole new way.

The first time they had held her, she’d been suspended between them in a cradle of both their arms. Harvey had kissed Mike over Rosie’s tiny, pink body and they had stared down at her with wonder in their eyes. She had been a small, perfect little human and she’d been all theirs to love and shape. Harvey had looked into Mike's eyes and told him he wanted another hundred babies because Mike had never looked so happy in his life. Mike had smiled and kissed Harvey's mouth and Rosie’s head.

She had grown quickly in the first year. Harvey had constantly teased her about being a weed, but Mike had told her secretly that she was a beautiful sunflower because she got bigger every day and turned her face to the sun because she was sweet and beautiful and absorbed only the good. When she had gotten a cold, Mike had wrapped her in blankets and he’d propped her up on pillows in his and Harvey's bed. He’d recited Moby Dick to her and she’d blinked sleepily at him, little thumb in her mouth. Mike had felt so perfect then, like his family was complete again for the first time since he was eleven.

Her first word had been _book_ and Mike's heart had swelled with pride when she had immediately followed it with _daddy_. It had quickly become her favourite phrase: Mike had received a _book, daddy_ at every bedtime and a _book, daddy_ in every store. She had acquired a library of her own by the time she was two.

Mike and Harvey had decided very quickly after having Rosie for a month that perhaps waiting until one could sleep through the night before having another was a good idea. As soon as Rosie had turned two, they’d gone to a surrogacy clinic and signed up elatedly. Harvey had teased Mike about who would be the dad and Mike had smiled and said _both of us_ in a simple, happy voice. They’d mixed their sperm and fertilized a few eggs and two months later, their surrogate mother was pregnant. They’d told Rosie immediately and she’d jumped around for hours with excitement and Mike and Harvey had wrapped around each other so tightly with joy that breathing became secondary.

Their second baby had been born on a Thursday and Harvey had been in court when Mike got the call. He’d stormed Rosie’s preschool and taken her with him to the hospital and he’d called Harvey's cell repeatedly, like an automated machine. He’d barely controlled himself enough to hail a cab and then he’d almost forgotten the hospital address. The good-natured cabbie had gotten them there in one piece and Rosie and Mike had run into the hospital with grins as wide as their faces. They’d barely made it in time to see Jennifer, their surrogate, give the final push and produce their newest family member.

The doctor had called out congratulations, it’s a girl! and Mike had whooped and swung Rosie around by her armpits as they both giggled themselves into hysterics. He’d cut the cord with glee and the nurses had wiped her down and swaddled her and weighed her before she’d finally been placed in his arms. He’d taken one look down at her a thought _I love her just as much as Rosie already_. It had been immediate.

Harvey had burst through the door with a white face and heaving chest and clenched fists. He’d taken one look at the bundle in Mike's arms and melted into one big family embrace, Rosie clutching both their legs and new baby between them as he’d kissed Mike long and hard. He’d gasped _I love you, I love all three of you_ and then snatched their little girl to hold her for the first time. He’d clutched her gently against his chest and whispered _Grace_ to Mike breathlessly. Mike had smiled because it was perfect and he loved his family.

Grace – Gracie, as they had quickly dubbed her – had grown just as quickly as Rosie had. She had rolled and sat up and crawled and stood and walked and talked even before they’d figured out a sleeping schedule. Harvey and Mike had never even speculated on whose baby she might be because they’d both considered her theirs, a perfect little bundle of both of their best traits. Rosie had loved her little sister boundlessly and she’d spend hours just chattering to the little girl.

When Gracie had been almost three, Mike had heard her gabbing on in her bedroom and gone to investigate. He’d found her marching the length of her bed with stuffed animals lined along the edge as she told a story. He’d recognized it as The Grinch Who Stole Christmas and smiled to himself before he’d realized she was reciting it _word for word_. He’d dropped to his knees and scooped her up in his arms and asked _Gracie, baby, where did you hear that_? She’d told him she had read the book at Christmas and wanted to tell it to her animals.

Mike had snuggled her into his chest and blinked tears away against her big blond curls. He’d spent so much time being so very happy with the love he’d been surrounded with for years that he’d long forgotten what it felt like to have a mind like his in a companion. It had been so long since his mother’s death that he’d completely lost touch with connecting intellectually. He’d known without a doubt in that moment that Gracie would be exactly like him.

He’d told Harvey nervously because they’d agreed not to figure out who was Gracie’s biological father. He should have known – Harvey had grinned and hugged Mike and told him he was glad Mike had someone who thought like him. They’d both been so happy and excited and proud that they’d let the girls stay up late and watch Monsters Inc before bed, even though it had been a school night. Then Mike had taken Harvey to bed and they’d made love for hours on end, still on a high from their perfect, beautiful family.

The years after had passed too quickly, but never in a blur. Mike remembered every moment of their lives, but it had flown so quickly. The girls had grown up and gotten boyfriends and lost boyfriends and Rosie had graduated high school. Harvey had retired and learned to spend his days at their big house upstate instead of at the office like Mike did. Soon, Gracie had graduated high school, too, and Rosie got married to an associate at Pearson Hardman whom Harvey hated and Mike adored. Gracie had gotten her degree in art history and travelled the world as an art appraiser. Rosie’d had twin boys, Spencer and William, and Gracie met a girl in Italy whom she fell in love with unexpectedly and brought back to New York with her. Mike had retired from Pearson Hardman, as well, and he and Harvey spent their days together smiling and holding hands and talking about the good old days and the good new days.

Gracie and Sofia had adopted a little boy named Tommy and they adored him like the angel he was. Harvey had breached his seventy-fifth year and he and Mike celebrated thirty-five years of blissful, love-filled marriage. He’d wakened on his seventy-fifth birthday and kissed Mike awake like he’d done every morning since Mike moved in. He’d told him how lucky he felt and how beautiful Mike still was and that he hoped forever was a real thing. Mike had told him that of course it was and not to be silly because he’d love Harvey until the world ceased to exist. He’d love him into the afterlife and he’d love him wherever they were. Harvey had agreed and they’d fallen asleep that night curled around each other like always, Mike's head on Harvey's chest and Harvey's hands on Mike's back.

Mike had reflected on how alone he’d felt at eleven years old and trapped in a series of foster homes. He’d thought about how he was convinced he’d be alone, loveless, forever. Then he’d looked at Harvey and the picture of the whole family, grandkids and all, sitting on the bedside table. He’d wrapped another arm firmly around Harvey's chest and inhaled the scent that was more familiar to him that his own body and smiled.

It was the happiest moment of Mike's life, just like every moment before it had been and after it would be.


End file.
